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I don't have to be where you are yet

I had a dream the other night that we existed in two places at once; you were in your apartment cooking breakfast and I was in a cottage overrun by ivy and you were playing a record (The Doors, right?) while washing your hair and I was picking weeds and you had gotten soap in your eyes and I was digging and digging and digging in the soil and you used a towel to soothe the irritation (because there isn’t any reason your cornea needs protection against dandruff) and dirt was building up beneath my fingernails and when you got out of the shower I found that I couldn’t breathe and I was choking and I was dizzy and my vision was cloudy and you used the same towel to soak up the water that was left on your scalp and the water that had dripped down onto the dip of your collarbones and I felt like I was sweating out liters and liters and you left wet footprints on the hardwood as you walked from the bathroom to your bedroom and I watched you check your reflection in the mirror for imperfections and I watched you pinch your cheeks with your pointer and index fingers and I watched the blood rise and blush as your footprints evaporated into the air and back into my body and I found that I could breathe again and that I had dug myself another hole and I stood up and brushed my palms against my thighs and tip-toed across the yard and into the cottage and straight back to the kitchen sink and I scrubbed my hands until my cuticles bled but it wasn’t enough. 57 more words

Stream Of Consciousness

Daily.code


Daily.code

In my walk, in my every step, I’d like to embody the things I believe in, like chivalry. Let’s be the men we want to be. 49 more words

Inspiration

Monday.thoughts


Monday.thoughts

What I really want to be is the kind of man who at the end of the week looks back and thinks, “I did pretty good and can do even better this next week.” Let’s be our own competition this week. 47 more words

Inspiration

Divine intervention

I often wonder whether people get ratty with me because of how I am, or how blunt/honest I can be to everyone; I often thought it was because I was too nice, and though I’m not the best listener, which is something I’m working on, I try too hard with people. 751 more words

Writing

A Deathbed Story

Beneath my youth, time flowed into raging waves, aging me more than could show this skin of mine. Beneath my youth, somewhere all along, were voids I failed to embrace, that swallowed me into unbearable denial. 172 more words

Poetry

Lies, Dreaming #5 - Do You Want Fries With That? pt.2

We are delighted to launch our fifth podcast on the theme of “Do You Want Fries With That?”. Here is the second and final part from that theme. 358 more words

Podcast